


if the ocean were liquor

by damedanbo



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Drinking, First Kiss, M/M, Partying, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-23 20:15:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19708612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/damedanbo/pseuds/damedanbo
Summary: What does it mean when your leader kisses you back? Is that good? Is that bad? Does it mean he likes you, or that he’s just bored? Is he testing you?





	if the ocean were liquor

He’s drunk.

Dino has been trying, for the past hour, to convince him to leave the party, go back to the dorms with him, and sleep it off, but Squalo’s not budging. He’s drunk (a little, just a bit) and besides that, he’s waiting. He’d been told to wait, and he is nothing if not a good dog. Or rather, he’d been told “see you there,” and that was just close enough to a direct order to make him plant his feet and fight, throwing Dino off when he tries again to drag Squalo away.

He’s drunk, and his head swims. Rational, anxious, paranoid Squalo, the part of his brain he’s trying to drink away, begs him to follow his roommate. Go back to the dorms. You are only barely fourteen. You are not responsible enough to handle yourself with this much liquor in your body. Dino knows best.

“Shut up!” Squalo yells, and shoves Dino away again, and this time the blond leaves him. Squalo watches him disappear into the crowd, not once looking back. He’s mad. They’re both mad. Where is Xanxus?

He had said “see you there,” and yet Squalo had yet to see him at all. He sways, knees locked to keep him upright, and marches to the balcony of the vacation home, owned by one of the wealthy famiglia’s sons who goes to school with them.

On the balcony, Xanxus is waiting.

He has a drink in his hand, untouched as of yet. He turns and looks at Squalo, eyes him up and down, and scowls.

“Are you drunk?”

“No,” Squalo says easily.

“Liar.”

Squalo kind of chuckles and sways a bit, the cool night breeze ruffling his short hair. Xanxus turns, downs his drink in one gulp, and tosses the glass off the balcony. There’s a cry of “ow!” from below as the glass shatters on someone’s head.

“Let’s get out of here,” Xanxus suggests and walks past him, back into the thrum of the music and the noise of people talking. Squalo watches him for a moment, then hurries after him.

He catches up with Xanxus on the path, carefully laid down pebbles sealed into the ground to form a road up to the mansion. They walk in silence, shoes crunching on the path, then the road, jogging across the dark, empty street to the other side.

It takes Squalo some time to realize Xanxus isn’t headed back to the dorms, and there’s a moment where he feels mildly alarmed. You are fourteen, and you are drunk, and you should be going back home. You should get in bed and let Dino yell at you like a mother hen, and fall asleep on your side so you don’t vomit and choke to death. But also, Xanxus is his leader, and he knows he can follow him anywhere. Shut up, Paranoid Squalo. Shut up, Responsible Squalo.

Squalo stumbles his way down the hill after Xanxus, blinking when he realizes they are at the beach. How did they get here from the party? Did he black out while walking? Xanxus keeps going up ahead, parallel to the waves. Squalo hurries after him, 

“Where’re we going?” he asks, feeling fuzzy and hot and very very on edge. Xanxus stops, shrugs. 

“I just feel like walking.”

That’s valid. Xanxus doesn’t strike him as the partying type anyway. He hadn’t even realized that  _ he  _ was the partying type, until a few drinks in.

“You probably want to head back to the dorms, don’t you,” Xanxus called over his shoulder.

“No,” Squalo said. “I want to stay with you.”

Xanxus doesn’t say anything. He sits down on the sand, facing the waves, and Squalo drops to the ground beside him. They sit for a long while, watching the water lap its dark, cold tongue at the skin of the beach, biting down with the occasional crashing wave and stirring up white foamy blood. 

Squalo realizes, too late, that while he’s been staring at the water, Xanxus has been trying to say something to him. “Yeah,” he says, hoping it’s not apparent he wasn’t paying attention.

“Really,” Xanxus murmurs. “How so?”

Oh fuck. Oh shit. He really doesn’t know what they’re talking about right now; he was absolutely zoning out thinking about the water, and teeth and tongues, and he doesn’t know what to say now that Xanxus is actually expecting him to spit the information he’d tuned out back up. Had he realized there would be a pop quiz, he would have tried to focus.

Xanxus is staring at him. Squalo panics. He feels sweat running down the back of his neck, down under his white t-shirt, and goosebumps rise on his arms. He doesn’t know what to do. There’s nothing he can say that won’t make Xanxus angry at him. There’s nothing that won’t get him in trouble, so he does the worst thing possible.

He throws himself across the distance between them and kisses Xanxus. Both their eyes are wide, staring at each other--not at all how a kiss, a first kiss, should be, but Squalo is afraid that if he shuts his, he will die, and Xanxus isn’t the type to back down either. They stay with their lips pressed together, not moving or deepening or dying--and then Xanxus presses a hand to the back of Squalo’s head, pulls him in closer, and sticks his tongue in his mouth.

What does it mean when your leader kisses you back? Is that good? Is that bad? Does it mean he likes you, or that he’s just bored? Is he testing you?

You are fourteen. You are drunk. You are kissing Xanxus, most dangerous person at boarding school. This isn’t good.

Xanxus lets him go at last, and Squalo has only a second to gasp in air and scramble away before the vomit rises past his defenses. He pukes onto the ground, retching and shaking, and he’s not sure if it’s from the alcohol or the stress. It’s definitely not that Xanxus was a bad kisser, and he doesn’t want him to think that oh god what if he thinks that, but it’s unstoppable, unpreventable. Behind him, Xanxus stands and watches him.

“Are you finished,” Xanxus asks, sounding vaguely bored with the situation.

“Yeah,” Squalo groans. “Sorry, that wasn’t you, it’s--”

“I don’t care.”

“Okay.” Meek. He manages to lay himself on his back into the sand, a few feet from the mess.

Xanxus sighs, looking back out at the ocean. It continues to bite up the land and sky, a hard wave occasionally splashing them with droplets of seawater. He walks over to his companion, kicking him lightly in the leg.

“Let’s go.”

“I can’t move,” Squalo admits. Xanxus sighs again, long and exasperated, and pulls Squalo to his feet. His legs quake beneath him. He’s not going to make it back to the dorm; unless maybe he crawls all the way there, and he knows Xanxus won’t do anything to help--

Except that he does. Xanxus crouches in front of him, grabs onto his butt, and stands up so abruptly, Squalo falls against his chest. Xanxus hefts him a couple times, testing out the carrying pose, and turns to shuffle back up the beach towards the hill and the road.

“You don’t have to--” Squalo starts.

“Don’t tell me what I don’t have to do. I already know.” 

Squalo decides in that moment that there is nothing to be done but savor what is happening. There will be no stopping Xanxus, and no undoing what’s been done.

You are fourteen. You are drunk. You kissed your leader. You should be in bed.

Instead, you are being carried, Xanxus’ hands on your rear to keep you against his chest. Your heart is pounding. You feel vaguely woozy and sleepy, and your mouth tastes awful. Xanxus doesn’t speak or hum or make any noise, just the steady sound of his breathing, but sometimes that is enough.

Xanxus carries him back past the villas and mansions. Squalo closes his eyes, too tired to keep watching the scenery disappear behind them. When they reach the dorms, he hears Dino’s surprised shout, and opens them again.

“Squalo! What happened to you? I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have left you at the party! Thank goodness you’re back!”

Xanxus lets go of his butt, and Squalo straightens his legs, unfurls his arms from around his leader’s neck, and stands shakily. When he sways, they are both there to grab him, and haul him towards the stairs.

They make it to his and Dino’s room somehow. Dino forcefully helps him undress and change into something clean and comfy, then urges him to lie down. Xanxus stands by the door, examining the decor and looking everywhere but at him.

“I’m going to get you a glass of water,” Dino announces, and leaves the two of them alone for a few minutes. Squalo, sleepy and drunk and fourteen, gazes at Xanxus, who crosses the room and kneels by his bed and stares at him.

“Try not to get sick next time we kiss,” Xanxus says firmly, and takes his hand to press his lips to the back of it. Squalo’s face heats up. “Got it?”

Squalo nods, and his anxiety and paranoia fall totally silent.

You are fourteen. You are steadily falling towards sleep.

You think you might also be in love.


End file.
